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Authors: Mick Farren

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BOOK: Last Stand of the DNA Cowboys
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The beloved Master looked as though he were going to explode. As a demigod, he was not accustomed to the Minstrel
Boy's direct approach. He was aflutter with bird gesture; 'What did you say?'

There were angry murmurings among the courtiers.

The Minstrel Boy raised his hands. 'Let's all calm down a minute. All that's happened so far is that we've spotted an object in the nothings. For all we know it's a party of harmless refugees.'

Parshew-a-Thar was petulant. 'There is no room here for refugees.'

'That's hardly the point.'

'What is the point?'

The Minstrel Boy was becoming a little impatient with the beloved Master's falsetto voice and patent stupidity. 'I think that the point is that you need to stop panicking and make some preparations to deal with the arrival of this object, whatever it might be.'

Showcross Gee attempted to restore some measure of reason into the meeting. 'Do you have any specific suggestions?'

The Minstrel Boy glanced at Reave, who took over.

'The obvious first move is to put your military on some sort of limited alert. I assume that you have a functioning militaiy over and above the ceremonial guard.'

Parshew-a-Thar was taking serious exception to the manners of the outsiders. His baby face was a mottled purple, and he seemed to be having difficulty restraining a temper tantrum. 'Of course we have a military. I will relay your suggestion to General Zeum.'

'They'll have to be armed with something a bit more substantial than oversized pool cues.'

Parshew-a-Thar glared venomously at Reave and the Minstrel Boy. 'Since you seem to have such little confidence in our capability to defend ourselves, I see that I will have to arrange a demonstration for you and your companions. I will order General Zeum to parade the entire Grand Army at high noon tomorrow in full battle array.' He turned to a nearby courtier. 'You will implement that immediately.' The courtier produced a scriber and tablet. He made a quick note and then hurried from the communications center. Parshew-a-Thar glanced back to Reave. 'Is there anything else?'

'Nothing else we can do except keep monitoring the progress of whatever this thing is.'

The beloved Master made a dismissive gesture. 'In that case, this audience is at an end.'

He waved for his nefrites. As he was borne away in his litter, Reave muttered under his breath, 'Yeah, it's been real.'

The following high noon found the seven out in the bright sun, on the flat, glaring white roof of one of the twin gate towers. They were dressed in their freshly cleaned travel clothes, and their weapons were held in plain sight. Even Lister Stent had made some effort for the martial occasion: All through the night a half dozen house girls had climbed all over him, sanding and polishing his ancient armor to the point where he gleamed in the sun. The seven were accompanied by Dass-el-Hame and a number of his aides. Showcross Gee and the other three metaphysicians who had been present in the communications center were there, too. They seemed to constitute the committee that dealt with the outside world while the other twenty-three were holed up in the Great Pyramid doing their mysterious research work. General Zeum was also on the roof. It was hard to gauge the metal men's response, but the remainder of the seven took an instant and open dislike to the general. General Zeum was a tall, smugly good-looking man decked out in a white tunic and cloak and gold Romanesque body armor. He appeared to be so fundamentally pleased with himself that he was totally impervious to outside suggestion. His response to all comment was to flash his perfect teeth in a slightly patronizing smile and assure whoever had spoken that they had nothing to worry about.

A wide, straight palm-lined boulevard led from the city gates directly to the base of the Great Pyramid. The Grand Army had been assembled at the foot of the pyramid. From there, they would march in formations down the boulevard, out of the gates, and on to the flatlands beside the river, where they would perform simulated combat maneuvers. The term 'Grand Army' was an unashamed exaggeration, considering that the force was little more than a thousand strong, although it did seem perfectly in keeping with what the seven had observed of the characters of General Zeum and the beloved Master.

A braying fanfare of trumpets and a thunder of kettledrums announced the opening of the show. The Grand Army started down the boulevard in half-time lockstep. The crowds that thronged both sides of the route had brought flags, bells, and noisemakers, almost certainly left over from the Cha'a festivi
ties, and they made an atonal counterpoint to the slow crash of drums. As the ranks of white tunics came closer to the gates, looks of complete disbelief came over the faces of the seven. Billy, Reave, and Renatta hurried to where Zeum was standing, looking proudly down at his men. Reave faced him angrily.

'What the hell is going on?'

Zeum regarded him calmly. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

Reave pointed down at the marching men. 'That's what I'm talking about. These men are supposed to be in combat trim.'

Zeum looked blank. 'They are.'

'You're crazy.'

'Please don't take that tone with me.'

Renatta was right behind Reave. 'These men aren't fitted out for combat.'

Zeum's impeccable manners were wilting a little. 'Indeed they are, young woman. They have been issued spear blades, and they carry short swords and aluminum shields. They are more than ready for combat.'

Renatta was even more outraged than Reave. 'Have you ever seen combat?'

'Of course not. This is a peaceful settlement with deep roots in its religion.'

'Well, we've seen too damn much combat, and let me tell you that this so-called Grand Army won't stand a rat's chance if that blip turns out to be a party of raiders.'

At that moment Dass-el-Hame joined the arguing group. He was quickly followed by Showcross Gee.

'What seems to be the problem here?'

Again Reave pointed to the ranks of men who were marching out under the archway and through the open gates of the city.

'It's this army of yours that's the problem. They might be okay if you were having a war with the Trojans, but if raiders do come out of the nothings, they're going to be up against projectile guns and heat rays. They're going to be creamed in the first couple of minutes.'

'I believe it was the Minstrel Boy who said it was highly unlikely that there were raiders in the nothings.'

Reave scowled.'I hate to see a whole city pinning its survival on what the Minstrel Boy thinks is likely or unlikely. What harm would it do to forget all this ancient bullshit and go to Stuff
Central for some real weapons? Then, if there is trouble, at least you'll stand a fighting chance,'

Dass-el-Hame stiffened and shook his head.'That's quite out of the question. It would go against our most deeply implanted principles.'

'Principles can get kind of irrelevant when the vultures are picking out your eyes.'

Dass-el-Hame paled a little. Even then, though, he was not about to give ground.

'In the unlikely event that we were willing to do such a thing and the beloved Master gave his consent, I seriously doubt that it would be possible. There have always been the most basic blocks built into our stuff receivers to prevent the creation of such material. I don't think that they'd even accommodate the templates for advanced weapons. The Founding Master was quite obsessive about these things, and the prohibition on weapons is built into the very fabric of the settlement. It might well take weeks to reprogram the stuff cages.'

Reave sighed. 'Then we're just going to have to hope that that thing in the nothings is just a column of refugees.'

He turned and walked slowly to the edge of the gate tower. Out on the flat grasslands, the Grand Army had formed itself into fighting phalanxes. Spears with bright polished tips bristled through the shield wall as two of the solid squares advanced on each other, executing a perfectly rehearsed textbook maneuver. It was a grand but completely irrelevant spectacle.

'Yeah, they'd be great against a bunch of Trojans.'

'Aren't you being a little hard on these people?'

Showcross Gee had come up behind him. Reave eyed him coldly.

'And?'

'The introduction of advanced weapons could have a disastrous effect on these people's social structure.'

'So would fifty heavily armed raiders.'

'It's hardly likely, though, is it?'

'I don't know what's likely, just what's possible.'

'Would you like to see a man like Zeum in charge of a really effective fighting force?'

'It's hardly my problem.'

'It might become your problem.'

Reave raised an eyebrow. 'What exactly are you trying to say to me?'

'If the Palanaquii had advanced weapons, they might decide that they were in a position to expel us from the settlement. It's very important right now that we remain where we are.'

'Operating according to strict self-interest, are we?'

'Our work is very near its completion. We must not be interrupted at this point.'

'Did you stop for a moment and consider what it might mean if that really is a party of raiders coming in from the nothings?'

Showcross Gee stroked his chin. He seemed to be weighing Reave's loyalty before he answered. He glanced around to make sure that they were not being overheard.

'We have discussed this. We estimate that in the event of an attack, we could seal ourselves in the Great Pyramid. It could withstand a lengthy siege.'

'And the Palanaquii can go hang?'

Out on the flatlands the Grand Army of Palanaique had formed itself into four spear squares of equal sizes. They were circling each other in a stately martial gavotte. Showcross Gee watched them for almost a minute before he turned to face Reave.

'The work in which we are engaged is infinitely more important than the survival or otherwise of this odd little settlement.'

Reave nodded. 'Just so long as we understand each other.'

Showcross Gee's eyes met Reave's. 'I think we've always understood each other.'

'Perhaps you 'd like to give me an idea what this work of yours is all about.'

Showcross Gee shook his head. 'Even if I did, you wouldn't understand me.'

'You could try me.'

'I don't think so.'

Reave considered slugging the metaphysician. Showcross Gee's superior certainty had become something more than a simple irritant. He was starting to ball his fist when Jet Ace suddenly provided a face-saving distraction by taking off in a roar of rocket exhaust. He climbed high and then swooped down in a steep power dive. He skimmed low over the heads of the Palanaquii hoplites and then pulled up and climbed again. He made a wide turn, then came in for a second pass. It had to be said in favor of the Grand Army that they did not falter in the
face of the metal man's antics. They did not scatter and run but simply went on with what they were doing.

Showcross Gee looked at Reave. 'What does he think he's doing?'

Reave shrugged.'What can I tell you? He's crazy and getting crazier.'

'I don't understand how you can work so calmly with an individual who is so unstable.'

Reave grinned. 'I guess there are some things that you'll never understand, either.'

Showcross Gee scowled and said nothing.

Later that night there was a tense emergency meeting beside Dass-el-Hame's pool. The exotics and house girls had taken one look at the faces of the contract warriors and made themselves scarce. The games were on hold, and life was suddenly very serious. Billy, who seemed to have been
shocked into normalcy by the spectacle of General Zeum's toy army, said it all in two sentences: 'This place is beyond weird. We got to get the hell out of here, right now.'

Renatta and the Minstrel Boy nodded as one.

'He's right. We should pull out before it gets any more bizarre. We all saw those clowns marching about this afternoon. If anything goes down here, we're on our own.'

Reave was not in quite such a hurry. 'We need to think about this.'

Blaisdell looked at him in surprise. 'What's there to think about? It's time to be moving on, and that's that. You can't argue about that, Reave.'

Reave walked over to the edge of the pool and looked down at the water. It glittered with reflections of foxfire, moonglo, and the flame insects. The fountain splashed, and behind him the wind chimes rang in the night breeze. The place seemed so peaceful that it was hard to conceive of it as maybe being on the edge of destruction.

'All I'm saying is that we need to think about it. This place might prove to be a haven. We've got no idea of what conditions might be like in the other realities.'

Billy was not buying it. 'We've got no idea what's coming out of the nothings.'

'We'd look pretty stupid if we lit out for some place a whole
lot worse and the thing in the nothings turned out to be nothing more than a bunch of refugees.'

BOOK: Last Stand of the DNA Cowboys
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